Betsy heard laughter behind her and stopped. She turned around and saw two men walking toward her. One was big and one was small. Both were dirty and disheveled. They appeared to be drunk. The small one was carrying a bottle.

The men stopped several feet from Betsy. The small one was drinking from his bottle and didn’t appear to have seen her. The big one did. He pushed his hat back on his head and broke into a lecherous grin. Betsy could see he had several teeth missing. Fear gripped her as the big man looked her up and down, wearing that awful grin.

Betsy turned to walk away but the big one was too fast. He took two quick steps and grabbed her left wrist with his big right hand. He began pulling her close to him.

“Take your hands off me!” she screamed. The big one laughed. Betsy slapped him across the face as hard as she could with her right hand. It startled him and he lost his grip. She turned to run but the small one had gotten around behind her and grabbed her. “I got her, Collins, I got her.”

“Good work, Shorty. Hold onto that little wildcat.”

Betsy felt this could not really be happening, that it was some horrible dream she would wake from at any moment. Collins, the big one, stepped in front of her and grabbed both her wrists. She fought him with all her strength but it was no use. Betsy could smell his foul breath as he pulled her closer to him. She was convinced she would faint at any moment.

Collins opened his mouth when he had Betsy’s face a few inches from his. “Come on, missy. Give us a kiss.”

Collins took a few steps toward Trace, pointing at him. “I’m not afraid of you, big shot Indian fighter.”

Trace stood where he was, saying nothing. Collins took off his shirt and flung it aside. He began opening and closing his big hands. He was a big man, both taller and heavier than Trace. He was very strong and confident in his fighting abilities.

Collins walked right up to Trace and stopped in front of him. Betsy stood transfixed, no longer struggling to get free, just watching the events unfold.

Collins looked down at Trace, showing an evil grin. “I’m gonna break you in two with my bare hands but I’m gonna leave you just alive enough to watch what I do to her.”

Collins had won his fights by quick knockouts and sucker punches. He had never faced a man that really knew how to fight before. Trace Reilly knew how to fight. Collins threw a roundhouse right that Trace ducked easily by moving back to his left. While Collins was still off balance Trace moved in and hit him in the solar plexus with a right uppercut then followed it instantly with a left cross to the jaw that knocked him off his feet. Collins hit the ground on his left shoulder, rolled over twice then stopped face up, unconscious.